the ways of the world as he was in the works of the great casuists.

"My lord has ordered the char- -banc, and is going to drive us all to
Chart, where we will lunch," said Lady St. Jerome; "'tis a curious
place, and was planted, only seventy years ago, by my lord's
grandfather, entirely with spruce-firs, but with so much care and skill,
giving each plant and tree ample distance, that they have risen to the
noblest proportions, with all their green branches far-spreading on the
ground like huge fans."

It was only a drive of three or four miles entirely in the park. This
was a district that had been added to the ancient enclosure -- a
striking scene. It was a forest of firs, but quite unlike such as might
be met with in the north of Europe or of America. Every tree was
perfect -- huge and complete, and full of massy grace. Nothing else was
permitted to grow there except juniper, of which there were abounding
and wondrous groups, green and spiral; the whole contrasting with the
tall brown fern, of which there were quantities about, cut for the deer.

The turf was dry and mossy, and the air pleasant. It was a balmy day.
They sat down by the great trees, the servants opened the
luncheon-baskets, which were a present from Balmoral. Lady St. Jerome
was seldom seen to greater advantage than distributing her viands under
such circumstances. Never was such gay and graceful hospitality.
Lothair was quite fascinated as she playfully thrust a paper of
lobster-sandwiches into his hand, and enjoined Monsignore Catesby to
fill his tumbler with Chablis.

"I wish Father Coleman were here," said Lothair to Miss Arundel.